All together Ooky with a JellO Mold
by Surfer Tsunamiya
Summary: AU 5th yearHarry comes home from 4th year to find that numbers 3 and 5 across the stree have been bought out, and a mansion is in their place... so he decides to greet the new neighbors... with a JellO Mold...HPAddams Family xover, rating for safety.


Harry rode home on the Hogwarts express as per his usual. His fourth year had been quite eventful, pardon the pun, and it had all come to a point when Cedric had died. Hedwig flew into the cabin Harry and the others were sitting in and dropped a package on Harry's lap. Harry decided to wait until he was at the Dursley's to open it.

Harry got off the train saying fond farewells to his friends, and promising to try and visit and write over the summer. Harry saw his walrus-like uncle standing at the front of the station and wandered over morosely. Once within range, Vernon looked right in Harry's eyes and said, "This summer, Boy, we'll have none of your freakishness." And he went off to the car mumbling something that Harry could only make out as "god-damned freaks" since it was repeated many times.

Harry readied himself, at that point, for a long journey. The car ride that would usually only take a short while seemed to stretch on, as it was only Harry in the car with Vernon. Petunia and Dudley apparently were out shopping, most likely for something new for Dudley. Harry sat through the tense almost-silence and listened in on Vernon's mumblings, the words freaks and unnatural abominations became a reoccurring theme.

They finally pulled onto Privet Drive, and Harry saw what was most likely the cause of Vernon's new lease on hatred. A giant, dark, creepy as hell, house had risen just across the street from his summer prison.

"Uncle Vernon, what happened to numbers 3 and 5 across the street?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

All he got in return was louder mumbling along the lines of, "God-damned freaks building freakish monstrosities over good, respectable, NORMAL houses." Harry could only try to stifle a snort as he remembered the Smith's, and the Petersons who lived across the street… just as much a bunch of nosey ninnies as the Dursley's.

Harry looked at the House and could only think of one thing, greeting the new neighbors. He got out of the car after the car pulled into the driveway and Vernon got out, after a few seconds he realized he would be getting no help getting his stuff inside. Once that was done (about 2 hours later.)(Those trunks get pretty heavy…) having dragged his trunk up to the room the Dursley's let him stay in; he refused to call it "his" room, as it was only temporary, he planned to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

Harry looked at the package Hedwig had dropped a little closer than before. It was from Sirius. He ripped off the paper wrapping and found a stone basin with a lid, and a notebook. On top of both was a letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I cannot be as forthcoming as I would like due to Dumbledore's orders, but I can tell you this much: if you want to know what your friends are really doing this summer, ask Dumbledore. I'm sure you'll figure out why. Think back to when you first met Ron. That is why I've included a pensive. It's also for all those memories you don't want in your head. Use it well. I've taken the liberty to place a few of my favorite memories of your parents in it. The notebook is two-way. I have one and we can communicate with each other. If you want something to be private just write it in the back, with the book upside down. It's good for those ideas you just want to get down on paper, or even just writing down all your bad ideas. Good luck Harry, and know that Moony and I love you like the son neither of us ever had._

_Love,_

_Snuffles_

Harry didn't know whether to cry or laugh. Here he had actual memories of his parents AND a way to communicate with his only parental figure. He was a little disconcerted by Sirius' suggestion about his friends… but he decided to try it anyway. In the meantime, he immediately opened the notebook and started writing.

"_Padfoot? Are you there?" Harry waited a few moments before writing appeared not his own._

"_Yes Harry, I'm here. I was wondering when you'd open this book up. So pup, how they hanging?"_ Harry couldn't decide whether to berate him or laugh, so he decided to joke.

"_To the left, always to the left Padfoot."_ Harry could see ink-splotches appear on the paper and in slightly shaky handwriting, _ "too much info there Harry."_

Harry laughed and continued writing back and forth for another hour. Finally he got around to his big question, _"Hey Padfoot, what did you mean about my friends?"_

Harry waited for a minute and finally writing appeared. _"I'm sorry pup, but I can't tell you. I never know when Dumbledore is watching. Just do as I said. Think back on the time you first met them."_

"_Ok. By the way, some new people bought the houses across the street and built this HUGE house. It looks old and decrepit but it's still new!"_

"_Well pup, my suggestion to you is to go and greet them. Let them know the real you before your older neighbors tell them all those rumors you've told me about. And if they have a daughter around your age, GOOD LUCK!"_

Harry saw that the connection had been severed from the other end. He sighed at Sirius' words and closed the notebook. Then he decided to write something in the viewable section for Sirius to laugh at later.

"_Bad idea #1…"_ and from there it went on until well after sunset. It ranged all the way from the age of four, when he performed accidental magic, a few years later, when he accidentally apparated to the top of the school, and all the way through "accepting that stupid letter, thus bringing me into a world of idiots who worship me for something I can't remember." Even going so far as to put down, "Insisting that we both grab the cup." Harry got a little teary-eyed at the mention of the last one, but plowed on.

After finishing, a total of 354 bad ideas, Harry most certainly felt much better than before. He set his quill down and got himself ready for bed. He fell asleep and had dreams of a dark girl he couldn't quite place. All he knew was that she had black hair, pale skin, and wore a black dress.

He woke up sometime in mid-morning the next day. He looked over at his repaired clock and saw it was 10:30. He got up, did his normal morning wake up routine and decided to get the hell out of the house while his relatives weren't quite used to the idea of having him back yet. He wandered down the street a bit and stopped in front of Arabella Figg's house. She was the only one who would tolerate his presence, what with the lies and rumors the Dursleys had spread about his schooling. He figured that even if he ended up looking at old photos of her dead cats, he'd at least have human contact. He'd completely forgotten about the NEW neighbors. He knocked on the door and waited… Mrs. Figg opened the door and looked quite pleased to see him.

"Harry, how have you been? I haven't seen you in almost five years! You simply must come in and tell me all about what's been happening over tea." She waved him in and he, hesitantly accepted. He waited for her to finish in the kitchen, saying it was all right and that she didn't have to, but she insisted. She came out to the Living room where she had left Harry and sat down, passing him a cup of tea.

"Harry, now I know you may not believe this, but I know the truth about where you go to school. It's not St. Brutus' school for incurably criminal boys." Harry looked quite shocked for a second, and started to deny it, but was cut off by Mrs. Figg; "I know all about it dear, Hogwarts is a fine school is it not?"

"H-how do you know about it?" Harry asked, unconsciously reaching for his wand, hidden up his right sleeve.

"There is no need to reach for your wand Harry, you see, I'm a Squib. One born to a magical family, yet unable to perform magic in the slightest, yet definitely more magical than a muggle. Now. How has Hogwarts been?"

Harry the proceeded to tell her about his years at Hogwarts, omitting certain parts of course, just in case, but giving her the basic gist of the situation. She sat through it all with a smile on her face, accepting the more dangerous parts that he told her. When he finally finished she was slightly more pale than before, and scowling at the floor.

"Well. It seems your life has been quite full these past few years eh?" she asked in a soft tone.

"You could say that. Say, Mrs. Figg?" Harry said, eyes slightly glazed over in reminiscing.

"Yes dear?"

"What can you tell me about the family that just moved in across the street from the Dursley's? All I got from Uncle Vernon was something about unnaturalness and that's only ever meant something good for me… usually…" Harry said stifling a laugh.

"Well. I have to say, I like most of the family. The young man who seems to be the head of the family and his brother are quite interesting people. His wife and daughter are equally…. Interesting… but I don't especially like that boy of theirs. He catnaps my cats and I don't see them for a few days. They come back either shaved or traumatized. Nope. I don't think I like that boy at all. The grandmother seems friendly… seems quite knowledgeable in potions too." She said, shaking her head with a very deep and thoughtful look.

"Well, a friend of mine said I should go and greet them before the neighbors fill their heads with the same lies you were told. Thank you very much for the tea and for listening, have a nice day Mrs. Figg." He said setting down the teacup and standing up.

"Oh, well if your going to greet them you might want to take something with you. I think I have a Jell-O Mold somewhere in the fridge…" she said, considering offering him an assault rifle, but thinking better of it. She walked over to the fridge and grabbed what could most likely pass as a Jell-O Mold, and handed it to Harry.

"Thank you Mrs. Figg, but you don't have to." Harry said offering it back.

"Nonsense, I'm probably never going to eat it. Just made the darn thing because I was bored. Good luck Harry."

Harry walked out the door and waved goodbye, holding the mold in one hand. He quickly ran back down the street to get the notebook and wrote for Sirius to write back ASAP. He grabbed the Jell-O Mold and the notebook, and ran out of the house again. He walked slowly towards the large house trying to take in the visage of it. A tall gothic-looking building with many gargoyles and depictions Harry couldn't make out… the mailbox had the name Addams on it. The gate almost tried to eat him, something that, even given Harry's eccentric background, was quite disconcerting. On both sides of the gate, a high fence went all the way around the building, ON the gate was a stylized A.

After having to work his way through the gate (not an easy task) he walked up a small sidewalk, past what looked like the old rose garden the Petersons had had, but now it was dead looking as if no one had cared for it in a decade… and some plants Harry KNEW to be magical were mixed in now… again, disconcerting to say the least.

Harry walked up to the door to find that the doorbell was relatively normal _looking._ Upon pushing it, he heard what he could only be identified as a fog horn inside the house, as opposed to the normal _ding-dong_ most houses had or even the somewhat normal jingle.

Harry took out the notebook and opened it to the page with all the bad ideas.

"_Bad idea #355: Standing in front of this creepy as hell house, ringing the doorbell, and staying here 'til the door opens… with a Jell-O Mold."_

Harry was about to turn around, hoping no one had been home, when the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a man almost as tall as Hagrid! He had a gaunt complexion and broad shoulders with an emotionless face. Skinnier than Hagrid and no beard.

"_Bad idea #356: standing in front of said creepy-as-hell house with a giant in the doorway, with a Jell-O Mold."_

"You rang?" The giant said in a deep, slightly monotone voice.

"Eh hehehe, you see, I just got here and I thought I'd greet my new neighbors. You live here? Nice place, I think I'll just be going now though, busy busy…" Harry was about to turn around when he heard the giant speak again.

"Come in." the giant ordered in the same tone of voice. Harry now noticed that his eyes were slightly unfocused, like a zombie…

"_Bad idea # 357: accepting invitation, against better judgment, into said creepy-as-hell house with a giant in the doorway, with a Jell-O Mold."_

Harry turned back around after scribbling down that note, and the giant waved him in. Harry waited for the giant to close the door and followed him through what seemed like impossibly large corridors until they got to a large hall. The giant walked over to a large gong and rang it. Loud. Harry had trouble hearing anything but the ringing noise for a few seconds.

After a minute, Harry started regaining his hearing, and heard the sound of thundering footsteps coming closer, and what sounded like a scrabbling noise… Harry waited in apprehension; he only just noticed that the giant had disappeared. He looked around, now starting to get more and more paranoid. What had he gotten himself into this time? Finally the steps stopped. Harry couldn't hear anything. He just stood there, waiting. After a minute, Harry decided that maybe it was safe to move and took one step in the direction he came, until a new sound stopped him.

_SLAM!_

A door on the other side of the room slammed open and a tall man with black hair and a goatee with a smile much like Sirius', like everything is in good humor, except Harry knew that Sirius' was fake, a make-up for years spent in Azkaban. An entourage worthy of the Weaslys followed the man. A woman who would make that American actress Elvira envious, long black, silky looking hair, liquid paper-white face, and red, luscious lips. It was kind of hard not to notice those… and her more… attractive assets.

Following her was an extremely pale man with no hair and dark rings around his eyes. Next in line was an old crone... that's all that can be politely said really. White hair, pale, wrinkly skin, and quite ghastly… After her, two younger people joined the merry parade. One boy, one girl. The Boy reminded Harry of Dudley, but less fat and slightly less ugly.

The girl on the other hand… to quote his friend Seamus Finnegan: "Hachi-mamma." Harry honestly couldn't think of a right word for just how darkly attractive she was… not a model by far but she had a sort of mystique about her that seemed to draw Harry like a moth to a flame. She had hair much like the woman, who Harry guessed was her Mother, and the same pale skin, yet her lips were a darker color, and her eyes seems to hold the proverbial abyss…

"We have a visitor!" the man exclaimed loudly. The family behind him cheered… all except for the children.

"And he brought a Jell-O Mold!" he exclaimed again. More cheers, but Harry thought he heard the crone say "but there's no mould on it…" rather dejectedly.

"Um… hi." Harry said rather hesitantly as he was, at the moment, quite afraid for his life. Harry passed the man the Jell-O mold and sank back into his afraid position number 4, standing yet slouched slightly and ready to bolt. He took out his notebook and quickly jotted down some notes…

"_Bad idea #358: sticking around after family started coming into room. Cute daughter though… damn you Sirius!"_

With that he noticed that the only noise was him writing, the family was all watching him, the man he could only assume was the head of the family took a step closer in hopes of seeing what Harry was writing, Harry quickly shut the book and stood straight. "Um… Hello. My name is Harry Potter. I just got back from school and I saw you'd moved into my neighborhood and thought I'd just come by and welcome you to it. Anyone my uncle hates can't be all bad." Harry rambled with a nervous smile on his face as he tried to stall for time to think of an exit plan… he took out the notebook again quickly, _"Bad idea #359: giving my name to these creepy-as-hell-people, in a creepy as hell house, with a giant doorman, with a Jell-o Mold."_

This time the man was close enough to see what Harry was writing and laughed jovially. "Oh, quite right, we haven't introduced ourselves and you were so kind as to bring a Jell-O Mold. Well, my name is Gomez Addams, This ravishing woman beside me is my wife, Morticia, but I just call her Caramia." (AN: I know I misspelled it) The man stopped as he and his wife went off on a lovely-dovey make-out-session… bleh.

The pale-faced man with no hair stepped forward, "My name is Fester Addams. Gomez and I are brothers. This is Mama."

"You can call me Grandma!" Harry wondered if he should push his luck, " And these two little demons, are My Niece and Nephew; his children," Indicating Gomez, who was still lip-locked with his wife, "Wednesday and Pugsly."

"_Note to self, Wednesday is cute. Must remember to ask for date." _Harry wrote quickly, not noticing that Gomez was standing over him, reading over his shoulder. He heard Gomez stifle a laugh. As Harry re-read what he had put down and realized that Gomez had seen it, he turned beet-red.

"Wednesday, it appears you have another admirer!" he said to the whole family, though directed at Wednesday. They all laughed heartily, while Harry was seriously trying not to pass out from embarrassment at the moment while all Wednesday did was smirk.

"You remember what happened to the last one right?" She said quietly.

"Poor boy. Heart attack right after Debbie's funeral. It was a celebration, and the poor boy had to die during it." Gomez sighed and the entire family seemed to be waiting for something, but Harry couldn't figure out what they would want, until he felt a knick in his shoulder by a knife. A large knife.

Harry took out the notebook and tried, shakily, not to get blood on the pages, _"Bad idea #360: taking eyes off of brother of cute daughter of creepy-as-hell-family, in creepy-as-hell-house, with a Jell-O Mold."_ Harry mentally snickered at the running gag he was making.

"Now Pugsley, what have we told you about attacking guests?" Gomez asked in a reprimanding tone.

"Not unless it will finish them on the first shot." He said sounding dejected… he had tried, really, but he had moved his head just the wrong way and it hit his shoulder instead. Granted he probably hit a vein, but still. Harry was a little shocked, but having dealt with a family that hated him for so long, he really didn't care, except for the fact that the knife was starting to hurt… seriously. Taking it out, Pugsley having let go of it and walked back over to where his sister was standing, the wound started to bleed profusely.

Harry attempted to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding, but it didn't seem to do any good. He turned to the crone and stuttered out, "I heard that you were very good with potions, just curious but do you have any healing potions handy? Or at least a blood replenishing potion I can take later?"

"Oh of course, but most of my potion work is done with poisons, I don't rightly remember if my healing potions are very effective, but they should take care of that little scratch." She said in a wise, yet youthful sounding voice.

Harry could only wince a bit and get out a small laugh, before passing out.

Harry woke up some time later on a stone slab, with the crone standing over him.

"AAAAAAHHHH!" Harry yelled, as he didn't quite expect that…

"He's alive. Good thing too, if he had died, Dumbledore would have had my hide, American or no." She said neutrally. "Well, you've been out for a while there young man. I assume you're a native Wizard then? Well, Hogwarts may be a fine school… But I never did like Dumbledore. Speaking of which, didn't you say your name was Harry Potter?" She said all rather quickly, studying him closely.

"Um, Yes." He pulled up his bangs and waited for the gasp.

It never came.

He looked at her and saw she was deep in thought, with a scheming grin on her face. Inside Gandmama's head, one would hear the following thoughts, _"Oh yes, that would get the old Bee's beard in a twist! Oh yes, that would work, I just have to make sure Wednesday doesn't kill him before Dumble's even hears about it… that could be the problem. Oh well, a little pain never hurt in the long run…. Most of the time anyways."_ The scheming smile went further and further until it reached from ear to ear.

"So, Harry. I read your notebook and saw your notes about my granddaughter…"

Harry decidedly did not like where this conversation was headed. With a slight blush Harry Nodded and looked at the ground, on the way noticing that there wasn't a scar or anything of where Pugsley had gotten him.

"Well, as much as I fear for your health, I would be willing to tolerate you dating her, should she agree. I'll even put in a good word for you if you ask." She said in a sweet, grandmotherly tone… one that quite possibly scared Harry even more than her other tones.

Now, the author would like to note that in most people's voices one could detect inflections and accents that mean certain things when strung together. Most of the time, people can't or DON'T detect these subtle signs due to the fact that they just don't know what they all mean. Now, deep down, instinct can usually determine what they mean by pure animalistic paranoia. And at the moment, Harry's instincts were telling him, _"DON'T YOU FOOL! She's got something plotted!"_

Now, like most Griffindors, Harry listened to this like the freaking gospel. "Ok…. But what's the catch? What's in it for you?" Harry asked timidly.

Grandmamma simply shrugged and smiled. "Not much, just the pleasure of getting Dumbledore's beard in a twist. I've mentioned I don't like him much didn't I?"

Harry really didn't like the idea of where this is going, but hey, might as well give it a shot.

"It would be a pleasure for me to ask, but if she does accept, what do you think I can expect?" Harry said in as much of a gentlemanly tone as possible.

"Oh…. Nothing out of the ordinary…" She said in an innocent tone, which Harry would later learn: Never trust.

"On an aside, your life insurance is paid up right?"

OK…. DISCLAIMER: I only own my soul, and that's going to my girlfriend as soon as she stops trying to steal it or trying to take it. Anyways, HP is JK Rowling's, and Addams Family is owned by a genius. I don't know your name my hero, but I give you credit. (salutes) I thought this fic up watching the Addams family movie and thought this'd e fun, please let me know if you want me to continue, and just know, that flames will be used in lieu of a heating system, and thus they will have no purpose whatsoever. And any REALLY nasty ones will be reported. anyways, please review!


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